


Funerals

by lightlysaltedapples



Series: Little Heathers [2]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: #protectBabyMac2K16, Cheese, Dead hamsters, Death, Funerals, Gen, Heather did not want to die., Small, baby heathers, kindergartners discussing death.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 01:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8647273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightlysaltedapples/pseuds/lightlysaltedapples
Summary: While at Heather Chandler's funeral, McNamara remembers the first funeral she ever went to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> :')

Heather McNamara hated funerals. Loathed them entirely.  
That's probably why she hated Heather Chandler's funeral. (Her best friend being dead might have had something to do with it though.)  
The last funeral she had been to was when her hamster, Cheese, had gone to that "little hamster ball up in the sky", as her mother had put it. But that had been years ago. When the two were just kids. 

"Heather, dear, me and your mother need to tell you something," Mr. McNamara began. Heather was enjoying a lazy Saturday morning, coloring in a little book her Aunt had gotten her.  
"Yeah Pa?" She asked, not turning away from the book.  
She could see her father shift uncomfortably, as if he didn't know how to go about saying it. "Your rat is dead, Heather."  
Heather turned her head. "What?" She could feel her cheeks getting red.  
"-What your father means to say is- well... Cheese went to that little hamster ball up in the sky. We found out just a little while ago." 

The rest of the day was uneventful. Most of it was filled with Mr. and Mrs. McNamara trying to cheer Heather up. Nothing really helped.  
At precisely 1:37 in the afternoon, Heather's mother got a call.  
"I'll be just a moment, okay?" She promised, going into the kitchen to answer it.  
There were a few words exchanged, and a couple muted laughs, then she returned. 

"Hey Heather." She cooed. "Heather's mommy said that Heather can come over to play. Doesn't that sound fun?"  
Heather crossed her arms, tossing the stuffed bunny she had been holding aside. "My best friends are both named Heather, Mommy." She grumbled. "Pillowcase." She mumbled that last part.

"Sorry dear. Heather /Chandler's/ mommy said she can come over to play." Mrs. McNamara corrected herself. "Let's get you cleaned up, alright?" 

 

About fifteen minutes later, Heather Chandler had arrived holding a little daisy. From there, the details were fuzzy. All McNamara could remember vividly was Heather Chandler taking her hand, leading her to the shallow grave they'd dug, and the two standing alone. 

"Heather?" McNamara asked.  
Chandler looked up.  
"... What happens when you die?"  
Chandler didn't want to answer. To be honest, she didn't know herself. "... You forget everything."  
"E-everything?"  
Chandler nodded.  
"...E-even you?"  
She nodded again.  
McNamara did not want to die. 

Not then, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> Then she tried to kill herself.   
> The end.


End file.
